


Before

by TrevorPhilipsismySpiritAnimal (lazysatyr)



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: 1994, Love, M/M, North Yankton, One Sided Love, Plot, Repressed Emotions, Rough Sex, Smut, dealing with depression, heavy drug use, inner turmoil, manly fluff, movie buff, the so called glory days, too much booze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-01-23 18:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1574918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazysatyr/pseuds/TrevorPhilipsismySpiritAnimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's mid-winter in 1994, and for the first time Michael, Trevor and their rag-tag crew have succeeded in scraping out a somewhat reliable living pulling jobs. </p><p>But as their working relationship stabilizes, Trevor and Michael's friendship is only becoming more complex, and they are forced to face some of the complications that have risen between them.</p><p>[Original art for each chapter]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Like clockwork

 

“Easy there, T!” Michael said, eyeing Trevor’s fidgety trigger finger as he pointed his rifle at the tellers currently cowering on the floor before him.

 

“I know-I know-I know, alright? C’mon man, can’t you bust open them machines already?” Trevor responded, easing up a bit on the gun flailing.

 

“I’m just waiting on L to disable the security system on ‘em. Just be patient.” Michael said, watching the screen for his cue.

 

“Unghh what’s taking him so long!?” Trevor snapped, losing control of his shaking trigger finger and spraying a few bullets into the wall above the teller’s heads.

 

“Whoa! Whoa! Get a hold of yourself! All things in good time, man! It’s alright, we have a minute to spare.” Michael reassured, and in that moment the power cut off all around them and unlocked the cash mechanism in the machines lining the far wall. In that same moment, an alarm sounded above their heads, blaring deafeningly. Michael tested the door on the lower part of the machine, finding it now unlocked.

 

“Ahrgh! Finally!” Trevor sighed in relief, glancing over his shoulder. Michael moved quickly between the horse race betting machines, collecting as much of the cash has he could before moving on to the next.

 

“A-alright! Alright man, we got it, let’s get out of here!” Michael shouted over his radio. Both men headed for the back exit, bursting through the doors and into the tiny parking lot.

 

“Fuck, where the fuck is Moses!?” Trevor snapped, “I knew that fuck was a liability!”

 

They waited for a few tense seconds, looking all around. Just as Michael began to get real nervous, he saw a black SUV pull into the parking lot.

 

“Ay! Yo, there he is!” Michael shouted, and both men ran for the doors of the vehicle.

 

“I can hear the cops comin’ man, let’s gogogo!” Trevor shouted as they climbed in and slammed the doors shut. Moses stomped on the gas and the car peeled out, spraying bits of gravel in their wake... They took off down a quiet road with berries and cherries whirling behind them, reflecting everywhere off of the snow and the various windows in the distance.

 

“Holy shit, we might actually make it outta here without havin’ ta pop any piggy brains!” Trevor scoffed, glancing out the back window, watching closely for anyone who might be following.

 

“I got y’all.” Moses said coolly, taking a sharp corner down a dark alley with ease.

 

“Mikey, did we make a good haul?” Trevor asked, excitement in his tone. He hugged his rifle to his chest.

 

“I counted at least ten grand a piece, buddy!” Michael gleamed, patting his duffel bag.

 

“Whoa, now we’re professionals!” Moses exclaimed, slapping a hand against the steering wheel. He hadn’t been in on some of the larger takes yet, so five grand sounded like a nice chunk of change.

 

“Alright, not a bad score from such a little shit hole gambling den, eh?” Trevor said, wrapping his gloved fingers around the stock of his beloved gun. He felt a special warmth in his soul when a job was completed without even a single hitch. The sirens were fading in the distance, suggesting they had gotten away without even a chase.

 

“We’re gonna have to throw a fuckin’ party to commemorate what was possibly the smoothest robbery our little posse has ever pulled!” Michael said, relaxing against the headrest.

 

“Damn fucking straight we will.” Trevor agreed, reaching up from the back seat to pat Michael’s shoulder firmly. “Betcha we could buy out all the drugs in town with what we got tonight.”

 

“Yeah, well you always were the master of subtlety, T.” Michael chided.

 

“That’s right Mikey, I _LIVE_ for the good times, and that’s what we got rollin’ right now!”

 

“Let’s just get it back to the safe house and we’ll sort it all out there.” Michael said with finality.

 

“Right away, boss.” Moses nodded, a smile on his lips.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Within hours the crew and a few extra of their friends were partying in the dilapidated old rental house which currently served as their hideout.

 

They had been sharing bottle after bottle of expensive alcohol while playing drinking games with a deck of cards that was 3 cards short.

 

They were all winning anyway because they were all smashed, and it seemed everyone was having a good time. The accumulation of cigarette and weed smoke, and the ceaseless throbbing of hair rock in that cramped little room began to grate on Michael, and after a little bit he got up and disappeared out onto the balcony to clear his head.

 

He stood leaning against the railing, having a smoke and watching the snow fall all around him. He heaved a smoky sigh. He couldn’t wait until the end of winter… He had come to hate the weather in North Yankton… Snow and rain all year, then a humid, hot, ball sweaty summer for a couple months before months and months more of rain and snow. He was absolutely sick of it.

 

Michael heard the door open, and a very drunk Trevor came up beside him. He felt his weight against his shoulder.

 

“M-Mikey-Mikey… my best pal in the whole world.” Trevor slurred, slumping against his friend. He wrapped an arm around Michael’s shoulder and tugged him close.

 

“Ey Trev, how’s that rum treating you, buddy?”

 

“Like the lovin’ mama I never had…” Trevor grumbled, raising the bottle of rum to his lips to take yet another burning gulp of the swirling, dark amber liquid. “How ‘bout you buddy?”

 

“Ah, I’m okay T. You know how I get when the adrenaline wears off…” Michael said, taking a drag off his cigarette.

 

“Aww, awwww…” Trevor grunted, his hold around Michael’s neck tightening. “You prob’ly just need more booze in ya, man.”

 

“Fuckin’ a, you’re ‘prob’ly rite.’” Michael smirked, imitating Trevor’s slurring. He reached over and snatched the bottle from Trevor’s clumsy hand, taking himself a long gulp.

 

Trevor swayed and pressed more of his weight into Michael’s shoulder. The arm around Michael’s neck stretched to take Michael’s smoke and Trevor took a shaky drag from it, which Michael found odd since T often disparaged him for smoking at all.

 

They stood there for a moment, smoke and heat vapor trailing from T’s parted lips. Michael wasn’t sure whether this was a contemplative silence, or just a plain old drunken silence. He glanced out at the snow… At least it was always peaceful...

 

When he glanced at Trevor again, he was surprised to catch him staring intently, a hint of a familiar look in his brown eyes. T looked away somewhat casually, staring out at the snow too.

 

Michael patted Trevor’s shoulder softly and Trevor’s temple dropped against the back of M’s head. Michael hadn’t expected that… but he let it happen. The hair at the back of his neck stood on end.

 

“You know… you really are my best friend…” Trevor said, lowly. Michael pulled his head away and turned to get a look at Trevor. He was absolutely trashed. M wouldn’t have been surprised if he was high on other shit too…

 

“Of course I know that, T.”

 

“You know I… I…” Trevor started, turning his face to look at Michael again. His breath, up close, was rank and it made Michael recoil a bit.

 

“What, T? Maybe you need to lay down, buddy. You’re not lookin’ too good.”

 

“No… It’s not that… it’s… it’s-“ Trevor slurred, gazing up at M with a vague look of vulnerability in his glassy eyes.

 

Michael stood there, a little confused.

 

Trevor leaned his weight against Michael again, an uneasy look on his face. He looked tired and a little disheartened.

 

Michael snubbed his smoke on the banister and put his arm around Trevor again. He stood up straight, taking on Trevor’s weight. “C’mon man, let’s get you inside.”

 

“No, ya fuck!” Trevor snapped, struggling to support his weight on his own feet again.

 

“I’m tryin’ to say, I-I love ya... ya miserable bastard!” He stuttered out, a look of regret coming over him almost instantly. That’s not what he’d meant to say…

 

“I love ya too, T. You know that. Now c’mon.”

 

“Yeah… c’mon…” Trevor mimicked, a sly grin curving the corners of his mouth. He grasped the collar of Michael’s shirt and pulled him up close. He leaned in, eyes closing, lips softening as if he was coming in for a kiss...

 

Michael reflexively put his hand to Trevor’s sternum, turning away slightly.

 

“No… no T.”

 

“Fuck, Mikey. FUCK!” Trevor spat suddenly, anger flaring like a match catching a haystack ablaze. “I sucked your fucking cock you son of a bitch!”

 

“Trevor! Shut the fuck up!” Michael barked, matching the bite in Trevor’s tone.

 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry Michael…” Trevor said, his head dropping in defeat, looking away slightly. “I just-… I’m sorry…”

 

Michael stood there for a moment, staring at the pitiful scene sagging before him. He didn’t think he’d seen Trevor act this way around anyone but him…

 

He felt a twinge of guilt, but he felt inside that he had made the right choice...

 

He hated seeing this vulnerable side of Trevor. It didn’t always come out, but when it did rear its hideous face, it filled Michael with a sense of dread and discomfort.

 

“It’s okay, man… Just… c’mere Trev.” Michael said lightly. His arms wrapped around his drunk friend’s shoulders and he pulled him in for a hug. “Sorry buddy… I’m just not nearly drunk enough for that, alright?”

 

He felt Trevor press the bottle of rum against his chest and he couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

 

“Don’t fucking laugh at me.” Trevor said, pulling away, simultaneously shoving Michael back. He headed for the door, taking another long drink from the bottle as he went, stumbling slightly and wincing at the burn searing down his throat.

 

Michael watched the door shut behind Trevor and let out a sigh, a cloud of vapor drifting away in the frigid night air.

 

He was by himself again, the way he had originally intended..

“Fuck, T.” Michael said, resting his forehead on one arm against the banister. He reached into his breast pocket for his pack of cigarettes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Trevor stepped inside, the room went quiet besides, of course, the blaring music and all eyes rolled up to him.

 

_They were all talking about you…_

 

Trevor’s hands balled into fists and he got a real mean look on his mug. He stormed through the cramped den of drunk people and disappeared into his room.

 

* * *

 

 

 

A few hours later, Michael was much, much more drunk, along with everyone else.

 

Everyone noticed the absence of Trevor, but no one seemed interested in bringing him up.

 

Eventually, Michael noticed the uncharacteristic quiet and went to check on his whirlwind of a friend. He stepped over Lester, who had passed out half-laying on a couch.

 

He knocked lightly on the door and got no reply. The reasonable first assumption would be that he had simply gone to sleep, but Trevor wasn’t the type to be in bed by 2 AM.

 

He tested the door and found it unlocked.

 

He stepped into the scant of Trevor’s room. There was a bedside lamp on with a red blanket thrown over it, lighting the room in a low red-orange glow that left everything that wasn't illuminated with murky light cast in stark shadow.

 

Trevor was slumped against the headboard of his bed, head rolled downward with his chin to his chest. His sleeve was rolled up and held in place by a leather belt which was tied around his bicep. There was a needle hanging out of his arm, his other hand lay in his lap, as if it had been there since he went slack.

 

“T, what the fuck, man?” Michael said, more to himself than Trevor. He came to his side and removed the needle, putting it on the cluttered bedside table before unstrapping the belt.

 

He was still breathing at least…

 

“T.” He said, kneeling on the bed, shaking him slightly, “Trevor…”

 

Trevor made a low, distant grunt.

 

Michael shook him slightly, then tapped his knuckles against T’s sunken cheek.

 

“Hwuh?” Trevor grumbled, emerging from his muddy high and tilting his head upward slightly to look at Michael with one bloodshot, yellowed eye.

 

“Wwwhat’s shakin’, Mikey?” Trevor ground out, sounding like he was speaking in slow motion.

 

“You’re a goddamn mess, Trevor. Since when do you shoot junk?” Michael asked bluntly, reaching over to pick up the little bag off the night stand. “You can’t be getting into this fucking shit, T.”

 

“Mmm, and who’s gonna stop me, eh?” Trevor mumbled.

 

“Me, you fucking idiot.” Michael said, his lips drawing in a straight, firm line with finality.

 

Trevor laughed a dry husk of a laugh.

 

“I don’t even like it that much…” He said, the arm in his lap jerking to his side, “I feel so… so….”

 

Michael sat there for a moment in silence, staring at his friend as he trailed off. He felt a pain in his chest, seeing Trevor so low. But then he felt a twinge of anger… T was doing this to jab at him… He just knew it.

 

Trevor had been acting strangely around him for a while now, constantly in need of attention and approval from him… And the sporadic and brief moments of intense sex weren’t helping the situation at all.

 

Trevor’s head rolled downwards again as he began to doze off.

 

Michael got up and went to the bathroom where he dumped the contents of the baggie into the toilet. He flushed it and tossed the plastic in the trash.

 

He returned to Trevor’s room and shut the door. He returned to Trevor's side and leaned over him, pullng him down so he was mostly lying.

 

He then sat there with his back to the headboard, staring down at his drug-addled friend, considering whether he should go to his own room or not.

 

There was once a time when he felt like he could help Trevor. He had spent more than enough drunken nights listening to the horrors of Trevor's childhood, and had hoped that maybe starting up a partnership and putting all of his boundless energy and skill to work for him could help him calm his demons… But as the years went by, it seemed Trevor became _more_ out of control rather than less, and though Michael had to admit it was thrilling, he was beginning to worry about where this was going. At least... where Trevor was taking it.

 

He had never had a friend like Trevor... In a lot of ways, but mostly in having someone he could rely on being there for him, eagerly fighting his battles. Sometimes he wondered what T would be doing if they hadn’t run into each other by chance. He didn’t think too hard about that though… He didn’t care to know. Trevor liked to think their meeting was fateful... Michael could deal with that.

 

After a few minutes, Michael thought again about getting up and crawling toward his own bed. He glanced at Trevor, who looked like he could have been dead if his chest didn’t raise every few seconds confirming he was breathing…

 

He decided to sit down beside Trevor with his back to the headboard. He had to admit to himself that he was a little worried… He sat there, watching Trevor’s slow breathing, thankful each time his chest rose, signifying he was still there…

 

Michael didn’t remember falling asleep there.

 

 

] To be continued… [

 

    


	2. Torn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get... more complicated...

It was peaceful in this place…

 

Michael was dreaming lucidly of a sunny afternoon, sitting on a hillside. Green grass blew soothingly in the wind, a sight he hadn’t seen in far, far too long. The sky was clear and as blue as it could be. He felt at peace, reminded of those few summers of innocence from his youth, when he felt like nothing could go wrong, and the days felt like they lasted forever.

 

Suddenly, he noticed svelte little fairies dancing an alluring dance all around him, their butterfly wings glittering with colorful and shiny dust. When they came to him, they hovered around, caressing his chin and neck, gently working to unbutton his shirt as they ran their soft little hands down his chest. Their kisses tantalized his skin, causing his heart to hasten as a pleasant, warm feeling flowed southward through his stomach and down into his groin.

 

Something distant but urgent told him to wake up, and his eyes blinked open after a few moments suspended between dream world and reality, the vivid greens and blues fading into the dreary red-orange of Trevor’s room.

 

He couldn’t say he was completely surprised by whom he found caressing his chest instead of fair skinned elves…

 

He didn’t respond right away to what was happening. Instead, he watched as Trevor undid the last button of his shirt, his movements surprisingly careful despite the fact that he was the least discreet human Michael had ever met.

 

Trevor pushed his gaunt frame up against him, and inhaled deeply through his nose, drawing in Michael’s scent.

 

Trevor squeezed himself longingly through his boxers, his right hand running down Michael’s hip and urgently across his lap, along the length of his dick, which was just hard enough to make itself visible as a slight bulge in his jeans. Michael felt himself twitch hard in response to the stroke, constricted by the hard denim of his trousers.

 

Trevor glanced up and was slightly startled to find Michael glaring down at him.

 

There was a long pause, and they both stared in the silence; Trevor sultry-eyed and playful, Michael with creased eyebrows and his thin lips drawn into a straight line.

 

“Hi…” Trevor said, the single word punctuated with a squeeze of Michael’s dick.

 

Michael felt his hackles raise, but he sat there frozen anyway, still staring at Trevor’s dozy eyes.

 

His length twitched again and Trevor took that as a sign of approval. He began to grope once more, stroking him against the periodic spasms that were making Michael’s jeans feel tight as all fuck.

 

Trevor gained a cocksure smirk, his dark eyes now studying Michael’s rigid face.

 

Trevor began undoing the button on Michael’s fly, dragging a held breath out of him.

 

He eagerly worked at opening the other’s jeans, and half way through Michael’s hand jerked and grabbed T’s wrist, giving him a concerned look.

 

“Don’t be a sore pussy…” Trevor warned, squeezing him again.

 

- _Why aren’t you stopping him?_ -

 

Michael couldn’t quite assess the situation level-headedly, having woken up already hot and bothered. He felt taken advantage of…

 

But, fuck if the thought of letting Trevor do what he wanted didn’t sound tempting.

 

Trevor took it upon himself to continue stroking, his fingers finally working into Michael’s pants.

 

Trevor got that smug grin on his puss once more and it made Michael bristle with a mild irritation. Trevor finally managed to pull his cock from his pants, and he began stroking it long and slow. Michael let out a small sigh in response, watching helplessly from half-lidded eyes.

 

“Why are you doing this, Trevor?” Michael breathed.

 

Trevor glanced back up to Michael’s face from where his vision had dropped.

 

“You almost always ask something like that… and yet, you never stop me.” Trevor said, that grin ever present on his lips. “Why don’t you get over his ‘boohoo I’m afraid of my gay thoughts’ thing? It’s getting old.” He said, somewhat annoyed. “And furthermore, why don’t you reciprocate for fucking once?”

 

Michael sat stunned, staring with uncertainty. He’d never heard Trevor speak so bluntly about it before.

 

Trevor’s eyebrows drew together… “I cannot believe I actually have to teach you a lesson about sexual courtesy, man.”

 

“Ey, this is getting real freakin’ weird for me, alright pal?” Michael said, his grasp on Trevor’s wrist becoming more authoritative.

 

“Hey-hey-whoa-whoa-whoawhoa, let’s calm down, alright? Let’s just… slow it down, and not think too hard about it…” Trevor said, his voice notably less biting than it had been a moment before.

 

Trevor pulled himself up so that he was sitting beside Michael rather than lying. He laid his cheek against Michael’s shoulder, watching his hand move back and forth over Michael’s lap.

 

Michael breathed out a pleasured sigh, hesitating for a moment before his right hand moved to grasp Trevor’s shirt, pulling it aside in the front. He slid his fingers into the waist of Trevor’s boxer’s, feeling the tangle of his pubic hair against his fingertips, and then the soft, smooth shaft of Trevor’s penis.

 

Trevor’s eyes fluttered closed and he breathed hard into Michael’s shoulder, as if a great weight had been pulled off of his back.

 

Michael had never held another man’s dick in his hand, and he had to admit it felt… odd. Similar and dissimilar simultaneously, but stroking it yielded the same response as when he did the same to himself.

 

He had seen Trevor’s uncut thing a hundred times by now, but he had never touched it… And it felt different, not as thick as his own, but a little longer, especially as it began to grow stiff in his hand.

 

Rubbing his foreskin over the head made Trevor fidget, and running his thumb over the slit made it pulsate, hypersensitive to Michael’s touch.

 

Trevor let out a soft breath of a laugh against Michael’s shoulder. His laugh was dry, almost a croak. He still sounded high…

 

Trevor toyed with Michael’s cock, finding the most sensitive spots by touch and response alone, stroking against the throbbing, which left Michael rock solid and resisting the need to breathe hard.

 

The way Michael was stroking Trevor, from base to tip over and over, got Trevor hard in no time.

 

“Ah yeah, Mikey… We could have a lot of fun, you and I...” Trevor said, biting Michael’s bare shoulder, his teeth dragging in an oddly seductive way.

 

“God Trevor, just shut the fuck up and get me off…” Michael breathed, feeling his heart begin to pound in his ears.

 

“Can do, sugar.” Trevor practically purred, shifting his right hand from Michael’s cock to his shoulder as he moved to straddle Michael’s thighs. Their knuckles nearly brushed as they stroked each other off. Trevor leaned back just a bit, to get a good look at the other beneath him.

 

Trevor upped his hand’s pace, watching Michael’s expression jerk in response. Trevor placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder and stopped his stroking suddenly. Michael’s eyes shot open, a desperate, searching look in them.

 

“Keep yer panties on…” Trevor said as he sat up on his knees, reaching for the half-used bottle of lotion sitting on the bedside table.

 

Michael looked downward at T’s bare hips; they were masculine, compact, with just the slightest curve to them that Michael felt compelled to caress with his free hand, his other still teasing the head of Trevor’s cock, stroking it firmly with the aid of his foreskin.

 

Trevor sat back down on Michael’s lap and grabbed the wrist of the hand on his dick. He took it and turned it upwards, squirting a bit of lotion in Michael’s palm.

 

Michael’s hand returned to Trevor’s dick, spreading the lotion over him, stroking him steadily. Trevor began rolling his hips forward slightly, thrusting into Michael’s hand as he put lotion in his own palm.

 

His slickened fingers slid back around Michael’s length and squeezed tightly, making him squirm beneath his weight.

 

“Oh fuck-“ Michael moaned, the lotion making their stroking significantly more enjoyable. They both panted hard, off-synch, their pace quickening, accompanied by the telltale sound of slick flesh.

 

Trevor glanced down at Michael’s face, catching him staring. Their eyes met for a split second before Michael turned his gaze away in favor of looking down at the task at hand.

 

Trevor loved seeing Michael like this… He wasn’t ashamed to watch the other, instead, he was incredibly aroused by what he had gotten them into. It even got him off just thinking about it… It always came back to ‘what if…’

 

‘What if they…’

 

Trevor’s eyes slipped shut and he imagined Michael’s hard cock, slick and pressing up against his asshole… Imagined it pushing in just a bit…

 

The thought, combined with the feeling of Michael’s powerful grasp stroking him off made him lose it.

 

He panted hard, biting off a groan and shot his load all over Michael’s bare chest.

 

“Fffuck-oh fuuuck…” Trevor moaned, slumping his head against Michael’s shoulder, shuttering.

 

Michael gained a disgusted look. He grimaced at the feeling of Trevor’s warm come streaking his chest.

 

After a moment, mind re-gathered, Trevor sat back up and his hand took up a steady rhythm on Michael’s cock once more.

 

“S-sorry Michael… uh…”

 

“Just go, Trevor.” Michael said, glancing down at his reddened cock still in the other’s grasp.

 

Trevor focused on his task, picking up the pace, soon stroking Michael fast and hard at a rhythm he could tell the other could come to. He pulled the front of his shirt up and aimed it at his own stomach, fighting the fatigue in his arm to keep up pace. He watched Michael’s balls twitch as he came, stroking him long and hard through his orgasm.

 

Michael’s head rolled back against the headboard, his fingers tangled in Trevor’s blanket.

 

Trevor squeezed the last of Michael’s come onto his thumb and quickly stuck the digit in his mouth. It was salty, bitter, earthy; tasted a bit like Michael smells when he’s been sweating…

 

Trevor leaned over and found a t-shirt from the floor, wiping down Michael’s chest first. He then cleaned his own stomach and tossed the shirt to the foot of the bed.

 

Michael was tucking himself away in his jeans, trying not to look at Trevor.

 

“See, was that so hard?” Trevor said with an accomplished grin. “Actually, I didn’t really think you’d get me up cos of the, uh…” Trevor said, moving back onto the bed, looking around for the bag of dope.

 

“What happened to my drugs?” He said, picking through the mess around his bed.

 

“I flushed that shit.” Michael said, matter-of-factly.

 

“Why the FUCK would you do that!?” Trevor snapped, rage igniting instantly in his tone.

 

“Because, Trevor, I’m concerned, alright? -With what you’re doing to yourself.”

 

Trevor paused for a moment in silence, soaking in Michael’s words. After a moment his eyebrows pinched together anyway.

 

“I COULD HAVE FUCKING SOLD IT, YOU DICK!” Trevor snapped, bitter and angry.

 

“I don’t care, Trevor, you ain’t shootin’ it and you ain’t holdin’ it on my fuckin’ watch.” Michael said with finality and anger that easily matched Trevor’s.

 

Trevor scowled and threw an empty beer bottle across the room dramatically. It shattered into a mess on the otherwise bare and dusty floor.

 

“You got what you wanted, Trevor. Why are you throwing a fit?”

 

Trevor stood there in silence, thinking… Michael was right, he had gotten what he wanted… pretty much. They got a nice take coming to them from the job, they all came out in one piece, he had all the drugs he could want more or less… and he woke up with Michael in his bed…

 

Trevor didn’t want to face the fact that he felt an enormous, overpowering emotion inside that caused him much distress. It was always easier to manifest it as anger and in violence toward others rather than to embarrass himself… loving…

 

After all, he had been mocked and even scolded for such feelings in the past. It was much easier just to raise his voice than to speak of his feelings… Even to his best friend.

 

The silence between them began to feel overwhelming.

 

But then he really thought about it… Michael… cared about him...

 

Michael got up, peering at the tiny sliver of morning light shining over the top of the blanket hanging over Trevor’s window.

 

“Why don’t we go get some coffee, huh?” Michael asked, giving Trevor a weary look, the bags under his eyes nearly as dark as Trevor’s.

 

Trevor was still in his own head, his mind going over everything that had happened.

 

“T?” Michael said, only then noticing the distant look in Trevor’s face. ‘

 

He looked… sad.

 

“Ey, T…” Michael said again, waving a hand in front of his face. He saw Trevor’s eyes roll up, giving him an even more dejected look.

 

He hated this fucking awkward pause shit… They needed to stop with this... It was getting too… complicated.

 

“What is it, M?” Trevor said, finally turning to stare straight at him.

 

“Like I said, why don’t we go get some hot coffee… or something to eat?”

 

“Nahh, you go. I’m gonna sleep this shit off…” Trevor said, turning to lounge against his bed.

 

Michael stood there, lingering in the doorway. There were things not being said, a lot of things, and Michael wasn’t even totally sure what those things were.

 

“Are you sure?” Michael asked; he felt it was his last ditch effort to restore a bit of normalcy to their routine…

 

But he knew exactly what would happen no matter what Trevor’s answer… They would both continue acting as if nothing at all had happened, but when they’d make eye contact, or when they’d get drunk and high together, he knew what Trevor would be thinking…

 

“Ehh…”

 

“Fuck, come on. Don’t make me fucking beg, you a-hole.”

 

“Aww, alright, but only ‘cos you got that lil puppy dog look.” Trevor said giving a smile. Despite his body screaming for sleep, he dragged himself to his feet once more and began getting dressed.

 

The house was dead silent. It was only 7 am after all. Their boots echoed louder than they’d like as they exited through the front door.

 

They walked up the road, enduring the frigid morning cold, their boots crunching in the snow. The sky was stark and gray, and there was no sign of sunlight in any direction.

 

“So… Hey, you ain’t doin’ that shit no more.” Michael said suddenly, breaking Trevor out of his mind’s ramblings.

 

“What the fuck’s your deal with that, M?” Trevor asked, squinting at him and speaking with a vaguely annoyed tone, “You never gave a fuck what I was on before.”

 

“My uncle, man.” Michael said, stopping dead in his tracks so he could look Trevor in the eye. “I watched that shit destroy his entire life and there was nothin’ anyone could do.”

 

Trevor paused, looking down and to the side.

 

“I ain’t gonna watch that happen to you, T.” Michael said. He turned and began walking again, leaving Trevor standing there for a reflective moment, stunned.

 

Normally, Trevor didn’t take kindly to being told what to do.

 

… And normally he would just do whatever the fuck he felt like anyhow… But Michael held a rare sort of authority over him, like a big brother he’d never had.

 

“Well then, it’s a good thing I’m more of an uppers kind of a guy.”

 

“Yeah… a good thing.” Michael said, rolling his eyes to match his words.

 

“That’s right, Mikey, for now on my life will be a grand adventure of poppers and speed from here on out. No more junk for me.” Trevor said, expanding his arms out wide to suggest that the infinite was possible. For Trevor, perhaps it was.

 

“Hey, how about we just start with coffee, huh?” Michael said as they finally came upon the tiny greasy spoon diner. “I don’t think I can handle a Trevor Philips breakfast of champions right now.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. But you and I both know we’ll be drinkin’ before lunch time, Mikey.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Trevor was right. They had started with a 6 pack of Dusche on their way back to their abode and graduated to rum by noon.

 

Trevor came into the kitchen searching for a chaser and noticed Lester cowering over a glass of water with an antacid tablet fizzing away at the bottom. He was holding his forehead in one hand and didn’t bother looking up.

 

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Trevor said as he rooted through the fridge, an arm hanging over the door.

 

“Hello.” Lester said, his voice barely audible. “Where did _you_ end up last night?”

 

“Oh, I went out...  Set a few homeless on fire and had a baby for dinner.” Trevor said, not bothering to look up.

 

“Are you… drinking?” Lester said, a little horrified by the sight of a full bottle of rum in one of Trevor’s hands. He felt his stomach turning at the thought of more alcohol…

 

“Yeah, - oh.” Trevor said, coming upon a couple of unopened beers tucked in the back of the fridge.

 

“Beer can be a chaser.” He said to himself, shutting the fridge door, satisfied with his find.

 

Lester got up with a gag and disappeared into the bathroom…

 

Trevor returned to his bedroom, half hoping to find Michael spread on his bed, but only found an empty room.

 

“Hey, let’s watch a movie in my room, huh?” Michael said, coming up from behind him and hooking an arm over Trevor's shoulder.

 

Trevor shrugged and nodded.

 

They went into Michael’s room where his TV and VCR were. Michael went over to one of his many stacks of VHS’s and grabbed a handful. He turned to see Trevor had taken his preferred seat on Michael’s bed.

 

“Here, pick something if you want.” Michael said, dumping the stack of videos on Trevor’s lap.

 

“Mmm, I’d rather just drink.” Trevor said, leaning back so that the tapes slid all over his thighs.

 

“Alright then.” Said Michael, gathering the tapes back up. “I’ve always wanted you to see this one. I think you’ll like it.”

 

“Oh???” Trevor said, his voice hitting a pitch that made his voice gravel. He took a long swig from the bottle of rum and winced before placing the bottle on the night stand so he could open one of the beers.

 

“Yeah, there’s a crazy character in it that reminds me of you.” Michael said, popping the video in. He sat down beside Trevor and hit play on his remote.

 

“Is that what I am to you? A goofy fuckin’ character for you to mock and laugh at?” Trevor said, his voice suddenly very serious.

 

“Oh fuck off, Trevor. Don’t be a dick, alright? I like this movie and I like that character. I think you’d get a kick outta it.” Michael reasoned.

 

“Whatever you say, Mikey.” Trevor said, his eyes focusing on the TV. There were a few ads for other such ‘classic films’ which Trevor could see himself sleeping through easily. He had seen enough classic films in all his years with Michael to have a guess.

 

“Oh, it’s gonna be black and white, huh? Oh man, I might end up passin’ out, buddy.” Trevor said, reclining back a bit further. He took a long pull from the rum, some of it rolling down over his chin.

 

“Just give it a try, come on.” Michael said, sitting back.

 

“Alright, man, alright.”

 

They sat and watched the first half hour mostly in silence besides a joke or two from Trevor. They passed the bottle between them from time to time, getting drunker and drunker with each pass.

 

Over time, Trevor wasn't really paying attention to the film. He was thinking of Michael instead.

 

He waved the mostly empty bottle in Michael’s direction. Michael glanced over to make sure of his grasp on the bottle dangling near him. He saw T’s other hand sliding down over his groin, groping the unmistakable shape of a hard-on in his sweats.

 

“Come on, T, can’t you go for an hour and a half without jerkin' it?

 

“It won’t go away…” Trevor complained, giving it a squeeze.

 

“Yeah, especially since you’re touchin’ on it. Cut it the fuck out.”

 

“Oh, would you prefer I do you instead, Mikey?” Trevor smirked, moving his hand suddenly to Michael’s inner thigh.

 

“Fuck off Trevor!” Michael said, his first reaction was to fight him off.

 

Trevor took it as a game and fought back against Michael's resistance, a clash of hands and fingers and wrists.

 

“Trevor!..” Michael barked, using his strength to overpower the other, getting a good grasp on both of the other’s wrists to peel them away, holding them apart.

 

“This has to stop, Trevor, all of this has to stop! I don’t want to break your heart someday.” Michael said, perhaps a little too strongly… Trevor froze for a moment, staring intently at Michael’s face, making him a little uncomfortable.

 

There… he said it… the words that had been floating around in his subconscious for days on end, making him feel an overwhelming guilt on top of everything else.

 

“Uh… it’s not like I want to be your girlfriend, Mikey… I just…” he paused; the feeling of loneliness he tried desperately to outrun felt like it was gaining on him in this moment… “Jesus M, you’re so good at playing the dense fuck, you know that?

 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 

“We have something good and clean here, Michael, you and me…” Trevor said, his eyes wide, boring into Michael, “And you just fuck it up with your emotions and rational thinking and shit.” Trevor spat, clearly greatly annoyed.

 

“Aint'cha ever heard of a fuck buddy?” He added hopefully.

 

“Trevor, I’m not sure I want you as my fuck buddy.” Michael said, a reluctant tone.

 

Gunshots fired in the background on the television, followed by the sound of people screaming, shoes on pavement running in fear; a cacophony of sounds tarnished with age, but with impeccable timing.

 

Trevor sat,scowling for a moment.

 

“Trevor, I love ya buddy, but I kinda miss it when it wasn’t so complicated between you and I.”

 

“F-ff-fuck, it’s NOT complicated! Ain’t nothin’ simpler than two guys havin’ some fun and getting’ their rocks off together.” Trevor said, earnestly, “ – A-and you know, Mikey, it’s not like I don’t see you getting’ off on it too. You and I both know that! Don’t feed me this bullshit over and over when you and I both know I’ve watched you come while starin’ straight at me.”

 

Michael looked away from Trevor again, glancing at the TV screen instead. He took the moment to take another burning gulp of rum and it greeted his stomach with a soothing, pleasurable warmth.

 

“Mikey… All I want is…” Trevor leaned toward Michael and put a palm on his thigh. He took the bottle from Michael’s grasp with his other hand and swallowed down the last of the rum.

 

They both sat there for a moment, drunk as fuck on a Tuesday afternoon.

 

Michael grimaced… Maybe Trevor was right… he sure as fuck got off on their rough and tumble lifestyle… But Trevor wasn’t being totally truthful himself; Michael always noticed the longing looks he gets from his friend when a girl is around for more than a day or two. He noticed Trevor getting into fights more often then, or disappearing for a few days without a single word. Sometimes it would be for a week...

 

He’d always come back though, like a loyal dog, rough and drug-addled, desperate for a minute alone with Michael.

 

Trevor had his fair share of girls himself, so Michael was inclined to tell him to fuck off most of the time. Trevor never seemed to try to place guilt on Michael for taking interest in others… But Michael felt guilt all the same when he saw that wounded look from his friend. He hated it though… It didn’t suit Trevor. It was unlike him, really.

 

Michael broke from his line of thought when Trevor began undoing his belt buckle.

 

Michael stared at him, unsure of what to do...  He was beginning to think... where was the harm?

 

Trevor began undoing his fly for the second time that day, still watching, waiting for Michael to spring into action and stop him. It never came, and Trevor unabashedly pulled his cock from his jeans, working him quick and hard. He glanced up at Michael and ran his tongue over the head of his dick, flicking it at the slit between laps.

 

Michael had to admit, of all the girls he had ever been with, the head he’d gotten from Trevor was some of the best he’d ever had, despite how sloppy and discomposed it could be. The enthusiasm… the roughness… The timing…

 

Trevor was lazily running his tongue along the underside of Michael’s dick to the tip a few times before he let the swollen head slip between his lips.

 

Michael let out a grunt as his cock penetrated Trevor's hot mouth, unable to control himself from curling a hand in Trevor’s hair.

 

“God Trevor…” he whispered, and Trevor sucked him in deep in response, his eyes rolling upward to meet Michael’s.

 

Michael turned away slightly, enjoying Trevor’s attention, but feeling uneasy about the unfolding of events. He noticed the movie helplessly playing behind Trevor's bobbing head, long forgotten in favor of spontaneous sex.

 

Err… perhaps it wasn’t totally random…

 

It crossed his mind that at any time he could tell Trevor to stop. It occurred to him that if he really didn’t like it, he would have made him stop long, long ago.

 

His fingers of one hand ghosted up the back of Trevor’s neck, and he felt himself shiver at the contact. Trevor’s head was moving hastily over Michael’s cock now, sucking him hard and fast. Michael could feel himself getting harder and harder still, until he felt like he couldn’t continue without exploding or having an aneurism or something.

 

“Fuck Trevor, god damn.” Michael panted, his hand riding on the back of Trevor’s skull as it ascended and descended.

 

Trevor’s hand slid up Michael’s thigh as he sunk to his knees on the floor between Michael’s legs.

 

“Trevor…” Michael said, almost a protest.

 

Trevor’s fingers grabbed at Michael’s hips, sinking in to hold him still as he pulled back, releasing Michael’s cock from his mouth with a slick, soft pop.

 

His eyes smoldered with desire, and they stared up at Michael wildly, the deep shadows around his sunken eyes made them appear even more dramatic.

 

“That’s right, moan my name while you fuck my mouth.” Trevor growled and Michael nearly recoiled in horror.

 

He’d never heard anything as simultaneously disturbing and hot as that.

 

Trevor sure had his ways…

 

He stared at Michael’s eyes as he took him in his mouth again, sucking and licking and nearly biting.

 

Michael balled his fist in a handful of Trevor’s hair at the back of his skull and rolled his hips up to thrust himself into Trevor’s throat, causing him to gag unexpectedly.

 

Trevor’s eyes widened, then closed, and he took it, taking most of Michael’s tumescent cock into his mouth, the tip threatening to penetrate his throat.

 

“Oh god, don’t stop, Trevor.” Michael panted, and Trevor seemed inspired by this request.

 

Michael’s head was spinning, all the alcohol he’d consumed in the last 24 hours was finally doing his head in.

 

Trevor leaned up determinately, taking Michael deep in his throat again, over and over, eyes ghosting shut in concentration.

 

“Nghh-fuck, T!”

 

Michael would expect to last much longer than this normally, and he was almost surprised when he felt his orgasm twirling through him and into Trevor’s mouth. He reveled in the intense pleasure, feeling Trevor suck him down.

 

When he finally opened his eyes, Trevor pulled his head off, wincing, a thin trail of saliva connecting them.

 

“Hmm, you have a way of getting just what you want, Trevor…” Michael said, a lusty tone in his voice.

 

“You say that like I’m the one who just got my dick sucked.” Trevor said, an eyebrow raising. After a brief moment of reflection, he pulled himself to his feet with the aid of a hand on Michael’s thigh. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a wild look in his eye. He suddenly, without warning, sprung forward, hands grabbing Michael's shoulders and pushing him backwards, forcing a kiss to his lips.

 

Michael fought, his strong hands shoving Trevor’s chest back in resistance, but Trevor had gravity on his side.

 

Michael winced as Trevor’s writhing tongue tried to worm its way between his lips. Michael grabbed Trevor under his arms and forced him to one side. He scrambled to his feet, heart racing.

 

“Where the fuck do you get all this energy? Shit!” Michael spat, still on edge from the disgusting feeling of Trevor’s tongue prying its way into his mouth.

 

He expected a wounded look from Trevor, but instead he found Trevor grinning, pleased with himself.

 

“You fuckin’ weirdo.” Michael scowled, and Trevor snickered.

 

“... C’mon, Mikey.” Trevor said, hooking a thumb in the waist of his pants to pull them down in front. He pulled out his cock and gave it a squeeze and a tug, staring at Michael. “I even had a shower… yesterday.”

 

Michael stared blankly. Did he expect him to…?

 

“I cleaned it while thinking about you.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Trevor. I’m not going to suck your dick.” Michael said, the last few words were half the volume of the rest.

 

“Aww come on M, I don’t expect you to swallow or nothin’…” Trevor said, staring at Michael’s face, imagining it goin' down between his thighs.

 

“No, Trevor. You wanted to suck me off and I let you. I’m not doin’ it back.”

 

“Bullshit! You owe me, Michael. By now you owe me a good, long suckin’ for all the times I’ve done it for you.”

 

Michael winced at the thought of submitting to suck another man’s dick.

 

Well… it wasn’t just another man. It was Trevor… The man he admitted was quite good at the task in question, and had done it eagerly several times....

 

“Fuck you.” Michael spat, unsure of what else to say, “I don’t owe you anything, Trevor.”

 

“No, fuck YOU, Michael.” Trevor spat, his eyebrows pinching together to finish off that disappointed scowl.

 

Michael frowned at his insistent friend, annoyance overcoming him.

 

“You should probably go.” He said bluntly, pointing at the door.

 

That’s when the wounded look came…

 

“… What about the movie?”

 

“Don’t fuck with me, Trevor.”

 

“Well, too late for THAT.” Trevor scoffed.

 

“Go. – or stay and leave me the fuck alone.” Michael said, feeling a little guilty. Fuck, no matter what, he felt fuckin’ guilty. He was sick of it.

 

“Fine then.” Trevor said, pulling his sweats up. He shuffled past Michael and disappeared out the door, slamming it in a huff.

 

Michael was left sitting there, staring at the television screen blankly, unsure of what to think or do. He had let it happen again... and Trevor was slowly destroying his defenses. He needed a break. To clear his head. Things were becoming much more complex... And he was beginning to miss what it was like before...

 

 

 

] To be continued... [

 


	3. Resolution?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time heals all wounds.

A few quiet days passed devoid of Trevor, as Michael had expected.

 

No one was concerned, or even noticed really, but when the subject of Trevor came up, Michael noticed the glances he'd get, as if _he_ was that animal's keeper.

 

In all honesty, he was relieved to have a few days alone, some space away from the chaos Trevor's presence caused. Besides, T had become real clingy in the past few months and it wore on Michael to have him up his ass all day every day.

 

Michael came downstairs on this leisurely Friday morning and wandered into the kitchen. He opened the fridge to find it mostly empty except for a crusty mustard jar and take-out leftovers that had been sitting on the bottom shelf since god only knows when.

 

“Sorry.” Moses said from where he sat on a bar stool at the counter, his mouth half full, “I made the last sammich.”

 

“Eh, I'm not really hungry anyway.” Michael said, though his stomach groaned in protest.

 

He heard the television on in the other room, the sound of crunchy 8-bit videogame sound effects filling the downstairs. He found Lester playing some space shooter on an old CJD 500 that Trevor had spilled at least one drink on, but miraculously was still functioning.

 

“Ey Lester.” Michael said, stepping into the room.

 

“Shh! Please, Michael. I’m close to beating my high score. If I can just get a little further... I don’t need you small talking at me and screwing me up!” Lester groaned, his eyes dead fixed on the smattering of pixels on the screen.

 

“Fine, alright then.  Just thought I'd say good morning to my friend, but _noooo_.” Michael rolled his eyes, “Boy, technology sure is replacin’ good old fashioned social interaction these days, huh Moses?.”

 

There came no reply.

 

“ _Yeah, yeah_ Michael, spare me the pretentious speech on how film is the last true art form or whatever it is you film buffs say."

 

“Aaaalright Lester, I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” Michael sighed, raising his hands in defeat. He turned to leave, already irritated.

 

“Oh, and find Trevor.   I need to speak with him about another prospect –- FUCK!” Lester shouted as his little ship exploded into a cloud of colorful pixels.

 

“Damn it! That was your fault, Townley!” He shouted, shaking the controller in the air with resentment.

 

“Whatever, asshole.” Michael grumbled as he headed toward the front door.

 

He was pulling on his coat when Moses came up beside him, his half eaten sandwich still in hand.

 

“You lookin’ fer Trevor, Mike?” Moses asked, leaning up against the doorframe to the kitchen. His long, stringy hair hung in his blue eyes, masking a bit of his thin, crooked face, “I seen ‘im at the White Swallow club last night, but he said he was gunna go to a party afters. I didn’t see ‘im again after that tho.”

 

“Thanks for the info, I’ll keep an eye out for him.” Michael said with a nod. Getting out of the house would be a nice change. There was a good chance Trevor was hanging around one of their frequent haunts anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Trevor awoke suddenly and pain throbbed in his skull, causing dizzying colors to paint themselves behind his eyelids.

 

When his eyes blinked open, he found himself lying on a dilapidated old couch in an unfamiliar room. He sat up and rubbed his face with his hands. His mouth was dry; his tongue stuck to every surface inside his mouth and tasted like the bottom of a bird cage, and only after rubbing his face did he notice his hand smelled... off.

 

He tried to recall what had happened the night before, but all he could really remember was getting shitfaced at a club and a pretty girl flirting with him, telling him about some party. She managed to lure his drunken ass out of the bar and back to a house with a promise of booze and drugs and maybe something else…

 

He didn’t remember much of the party, only sitting in a cramped, smoky room with blaring music. A pipe was handed to him, loaded full of something that stunk of burnt garbage.  The dirty, jittery feeling that stayed with him through the night and into the morning suggested it had been crack.

 

Fingers shoved into his tight jeans pockets; the wad of cash he had brought with him on his escapade was gone, along with what was left of his drugs, leaving his pockets filled with nothing but a bent bottle cap, a few pennies and a condom still unused.

 

He got to his shaky feet and his body complained with much popping and aching in his joints. His knees buckled suddenly under his own weight, but he caught himself on the arm of the couch before he collapsed to the floor.

 

He glanced blearily around the empty room, fortunately noticing a toilet in one of the doorways.

 

He stumbled over to take a piss, but only managed to get half of it in the bowl. As he stared into the rippling water in the toilet, he felt a worrying stirring in his stomach and bile began to rise in his throat.

 

Within seconds he was puking violently into the toilet, collapsing to his knees and trembling uncontrollably as he clung desperately to the bowl and purged. When his stomach could simply wretch no more, he let out a pained sound and slumped to his side on the cracked and filthy tiled floor.

 

“Fuuuck…” He groaned, the taste in his mouth far worse now, especially when he caught a glimpse of the ugly and peeling wallpaper all around him. Whether the walls were intended to be the disgusting yellow and green mess it was, he wasn't sure, but it made his head spin.

 

He shut his eyes for a moment, attempting to stop the spinning, and his mind manifested the image of Michael, looking down upon him, giving a disapproving look.

 

He smiled, as that was the first and only thing that brought him any warmth and comfort on this awful morning. He savored it for a few fleeting moments, wishing M was there... Even if he was angry. His eyes opened and he stared at the ceiling blankly. Fuck, he was a fool...

 

When he finally found the strength to get himself up, he washed his face and mouth, drinking as much water as he could from the sink and feeling a little bit better having done so.

 

When he opened the bathroom door, a mean-faced man came up carrying a fingerprint smudged measuring cup full of water in one hand.

 

“You need'ta leave.” He said with little humility, though he offered the cup.

 

“Yeah, no shit.” Trevor sneered in reply. The man grabbed his arm and lead him roughly to the front of the house. The man shoved him onto the rickety front porch and slamming the door behind him.

 

Trevor nearly collapsed there in a pitiful slump, but managed to keep himself upright.  He squinted blearily at the street, not recognizing anything at all... Well it wouldn't be the first time.

 

He saw a thick trail of footprints in the snow leading from the porch down the road and followed them for what felt like hours but was probably more like 30 minutes.  Eventually he came to a road he _did_ actually recognize the name of, but by his guess it was going to be a long, long walk home.

 

Twenty more minutes dragging through the snow with his gloved hands shoved into the pockets of his military jacket, nausea began to overwhelm him. Despite how hard he resisted the sickening feeling, he felt his stomach turn over. He collapsed suddenly and puked up the water he'd consumed earlier.

 

He cried out, shivering, cold and in pain. His head throbbed woefully, his fingers and toes were cold and numb, the soles of his feet hurt and his stomach ached bitterly. It was a sort of whole-body pain that would make a rational person swear off drugs and drink for life; but for Trevor, all he could think about was a bloody Mary or a six pack of cheap beer and a bowl or two or six of weed.

 

Another 20 minutes of trudging through the three day old snow and his feet began freezing in his boots. He was about ready to collapse and succumb to his exhaustion when he laid eyes upon a bus station on the next block.

 

It was covered, intended for long-distance travelers to linger for hours, and had a few empty benches out front under an awning.

 

Trevor limped impatiently to the basic shelter and collapsed to his side on one of the benches, feeling like another few steps would cause his legs to shatter.

 

He sat there for a long time, slowly recovering his energy. He could hear Michael in his head, berating him for being a careless piece of shit and the thought brought the slightest curve of a smile to his lips again.

 

He thought of the last time he’d actually seen Michael… the taste of come on his tongue and an overwhelming feeling of defeat looming over him.

 

Fuck, he would do anything to see Michael’s face right now, to see him grinning, or laughing, or even just scowling with annoyance.

 

He felt a dull ache in his chest and his body shivered uncontrollably. The cold nipped at his face, so he covered it with his gloves, attempting to discourage frostbite.

 

After a few moments he heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow a ways away, someone coming closer.

 

“Ey there, y’got a cigarette, friend?”

 

Trevor opened his eyes, slightly startled by the voice of an older man who stood crookedly beside him.

 

“Nah.” He said, covering his eyes with the back of one gloved hand, wanting to roll over but lacking the physical strength.

 

“Shit, you look like you could use one more than me anyways!” The old man said, coming over to sit on the bench next to Trevor's.

 

Trevor didn't respond. Instead, he laid there motionlessly.

 

“You takin’ the bus out west?” The man asked. He was friendlier than Trevor had hoped.

 

“No... just trying to go home.”

 

“Ah, yeah, good of you to go home. Yer mama prolly misses ya."

 

“You got the wrong idea, man…” Trevor said coldly. The subject of his mother triggered a wave of anxiety and dread; it was something he hadn't spoken of much to anyone, especially some random hobo at a bus station. He dragged his aching body up on his hands and glanced wearily at the old man, only really looking him over for the first time. He had a dirty grey beard, an ancient fisherman’s cap and a thick but ratty raincoat. Slung over his shoulder was a backpack which appeared to contain all of the man's worldly possessions, and it wasn't much.

 

He pulled a bent survival magazine from his coat pocket along with a small pouch with rolling papers and herb. With that, he began rolling a joint on the wonky surface.

 

"So then what is the _right_ idea then, huh kid?"

 

Trevor didn't answer, a scowl appearing on his face. He sat there and stared at the old man's wrinkled and deeply calloused hands as they worked. He had few affectionate feelings towards paternal figures, as most of the ones in his life were unkind at best and abusive and violent at worse.

 

The man finished his rolling with practiced efficiency and ran the seam along the edge of his tongue to seal it. He then ran a lighter's flame across it before he stuck one end between his lips, glancing side-long at the strange, disheveled boy beside him.

 

"Quiet type are ya?" He said before he lit it up. He took a few drags, then offered it to Trevor who gratefully took it. It tasted like it was grown in someone’s backyard, fresh and clean, rather than ditch weed smuggled from Mexico, which was so common.

 

“Well, I’m finally goin’ west m'self. I’m gonna try to find my daughter in San Andreas.”

 

“That’s... nice…” Trevor mumbled, his mind wandering off. He passed the joint back, feeling a little better now that he was high.

 

“So if you ain't takin' the bus, what are you doin' here?" The man asked, taking a lazy drag.

 

"It’s a long-assed story." Trevor said, scratching his chin, "But the short version is, I woke up in some crack den this morning completely broke. I might as well have been in the fuckin' gutter, 'cause then maybe I'da just frozen to death and wouldn't be as miserable as I fucking am right now."

 

“Sheesh kid, you’re worse off than I thought. Are you gonna be alright?”

 

“The fuck do you care? The fuck does anyone care?…” Trevor said bitterly, scowling at the ground.

 

“You know, I used to feel the same damn way. I really did. -- No, listen, _I see that look_ _on yer face_. I ain't talkin' Jesus, boy..” The man said, taking yet another hit off the joint before offering it along with his sagely wisdom. “ I really didn’t think anybody gave a fuck at'all.”

 

Trevor grunted lowly, staring off into the empty street.

 

“But you’ll find from time to time people will prove you wrong... They will.”

 

“I don’t believe you.” Trevor said still looking off into the middle distance.

 

“Well that's alright too, kid.” The man said with a smile. “I know some day soon you'll be proven wrong. -Say, you need some change to make a phone call r'sumthin?"

 

The man rooted through his pockets a bit and dragged out a few coins. “Here, here.”

 

Trevor accepted it with a blank expression.

 

“There’sa phone booth over there.” The man pointed.

 

Trevor sighed and pulled himself to his aching feet to trudge over to the graffiti-covered pay phone. He leaned against the booth and picked up the receiver, bringing it to one ear. He heard no dial tone, and only then did he notice the cord was cut.

 

He wandered back and sat on the bench again, thoroughly defeated.

 

“Here.” He grunted, offering the change back.

 

“No, no you keep it. You need it more than me, kid.”

 

Trevor shrugged and pushed it into his tight jeans pocket.

 

“I’m tellin’ you, someone out there is worried about you. You should probably let them know yer okay.”

 

“I know. I fucking know, alright?”

 

“Alright, alright. You’re touchy, I get it. I’m just tryin’ ta help ya. “ The man said, raising his hands up in defense. “Ahh, well. I got some time ta kill. I’m gonna go see if I can’t find me a smoke and some food before my bus arrives. Why dontcha come along?”

 

“Nah…” Trevor said, looking back at the street.

 

“Alright, good luck to ya then. See ya around-- or maybe not.” The man said as he got himself up and hobbled away, taking his time as he walked.

 

Trevor sat there, enjoying the silence that followed. His head was still throbbing, he was still very cold, but at least it was quiet. He thought of getting up and continuing his slow and painful walk towards home, and cringed sadly.

 

“ **Trevor!?** ”

 

He thought he was hearing shit, never expecting to hear Michael's voice now... but when he glanced up, there Michael was climbing out of his car.

 

“What the fuck are you doing at the bus station?”

 

An immense feeling of relief overcame him as Michael came toward him. He got to his feet, a desperate and lost look on his face.

 

“Mikey…” he managed. An overwhelming surge of emotion engulfed him, manifesting in a joyous expression.

 

“Trevor, what the fuck? If I hadn’t made a wrong turn back there, I would have never seen you, buddy…” Michael said. He was honestly surprised by how broken Trevor appeared. He looked utterly exhaused. The bags under his eyes looked deathly, in part from how pale his skin was.

 

“C’mon man…” Michael said, giving Trevor a helping hand, “Let’s just get to the car and we’ll talk it out.”

 

“It’s okay, I wasn’t gonna…”

 

“What the hell are ya doin’ here, T? Were you thinkin’ of takin' a bus outta town?”

 

Trevor leaned against Michael’s support a little more than he needed to. His friend’s warmth was comforting.

 

“I don’t know what happened, Mikey…”

 

“You look like shit, man.”

 

“Aw fuck you very much.” Trevor replied with a small glowing ember of humor.

 

Michael helped Trevor into the car and the affectionate feeling that doing so gave him made his stomach turn.

 

He climbed into the driver’s side and started the car. He turned the heater all the way up, causing Trevor to shake violently, the blast of hot air making him feel even more frigid by contrast.

 

“My feet are so f-ffucking cold.” He said, biting off his gloves to begin unlacing his boots.

 

“You gotta warm ‘em up slow.” Michael said helpfully.

 

“I know man… I know.” Trevor said, attempting to warm his icy feet with his hands.

 

“Man, you're one hot mess...” Michael said with a soft chuckle, an attempt to lighten the mood between them.

 

“Awww, thanks buddy. But I’m more like a freezing-fucking-cold mess right now.” Said Trevor, not sounding nearly as amused as before.

 

“You’ve gotta tell me, Trevor, how did you wind up out here? Where’s your car?”

 

“I don’t… remember, alright? I was shitfaced and some girl took me home last night. She said her cousin was havin' a party. I woke up in some shithole house this mornin' hungover and broke. And how the fuck are you?”

 

“Man, I was just out getting some food and looking for your sorry ass… But don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I fucked up and found you…”

 

Trevor grunted in response, finally getting a little feeling back in his feet.

 

“But Trevor…” Michael warned, “I’m fuckin’ worried about you, man.”

 

“The fuck are you worried about, Mikey? I know how to party, alright? This is _my_ path.”

 

“Gettin’ ripped off by drug addicts? That's your 'path'?”

 

“No, fuck, that’s not what I mean…”

 

“Well what _DO_ you mean, Trevor? It really hurts me to see you lowering yourself to that level.”

 

“First off, Michael, I guess it’s just all about **you** and _your_ opinions and _your_ feelings, huh? That's all it fuckin' is, yeah... And secondly, this _IS_ my level alright? I was born a fuck-up and I’ll fucking rot a fuck-up. It’s my lot in life.”

 

“It don’t gotta be, T, you know that.”

 

They sat there in silence for a few moments, Michael focused on the road and Trevor focused on his cold, cold feet.

 

“Trev, please just tell me straight, were you really gonna take a bus outta town?”

 

Trevor looked at Michael, eyebrows going up. He let the silence grow longer, basking in the thought that Michael actually fucking worried that he might skip town.

 

Michael looked at him, feeling as though he had stepped into a trap.

 

Trevor laughed with bemusement, shaking his head.

 

“I have to wonder why you care so much.” He said, hands returning to massaging the life back into his toes.

 

“Trevor, fuck, haven’t we gone over this to fucking death?”

 

“Yeah.” Trevor said, his gaze turning out the passenger window.

 

Michael sighed, staring out at the road before him in desperation, thoughts coursing through his rushing mind.

 

“See, I’m sick of **_this_** , Trevor, **_this_** right here.” His palm tapped the steering wheel to accentuate his point. “It wasn’t like this before.”

 

“Fuck before, Michael, this is now. Don’t ever cling to the past.”

 

 _‘Oh, you’re tellin' me?’_ Michael thought but did not dare say.

 

“Don’t fuck with me, Trevor.” He said instead.

 

“I’m not _fucking_ with you, Mikey. Before was and always will be **shit** , before was a living nightmare for me. Instead, I’m cruising steadily onward now. Now is going smoothly.”

 

“Yeah, if nearly freezing to death counts as fucking ‘smoothly’.”

 

“I would have been fine, you know? I coulda walked home.”

 

“You stubborn fuck… I know for a fact that ain't true.” Michael spat. “You could hardly stand when I found you.”

 

“I would have found a way…” Trevor said, and perhaps he was right, but his tone certainly didn’t suggest he really believed it.

 

After a few moments of awkward silence, the car pulled into the long driveway leading up to their rickety house.

 

Trevor, having pulled on his boots and not bothered to tie them, climbed out of the car and headed for the front door.

 

“Hey, wait T.” Michael said, climbing out of the car with a Burger Shot bag in hand, offering it towards Trevor, “Here, I got myself some food, but knowing you, you haven’t eaten in a day or two.”

 

“Oh… Thanks, Michael…” Trevor said, accepting it with hesitance.

 

“Are you alright, Trevor?”

 

“Oh yeah, Mikey. I’m good.” Trevor said, avoiding looking at the other. Instead he turned to continue towards the door. He was never the type to expose his weakness or pain easily. He'd much rather get mad.

 

Michael watched Trevor disappear inside as he sat half-out of the car. He felt an uncomfortable longing for... _something_.

 

When he thought real hard about it, it was probably camaraderie he really missed… Was it his fault? Had he lead Trevor on and let their deviant behavior corrode their friendship? He missed the way it used to be so easy for them to hang out together, to laugh together.

 

It still was like that sometimes... But Trevor always got that look in his eyes, especially when it was just them together.

 

Trevor, on the other hand, didn’t think about much of anything; he was too exhausted to give much of a fuck.

 

He went inside and heard the familiar bleep-bloop sounds of Lester’s weird video games. Trevor thought he'd finished that fucking console off for good.

 

Lester looked over his shoulder and blinked, poking his glasses up his nose with one finger.

 

“Oh, Trevor. What a surprise.” He said flatly, “I’ve been looking for you. We need to have a meeting about that thing you mentioned…”

 

“The wha'?”

 

“You said you knew of a possible job?”

 

“Oh… Yeah… well I need more time… you know, to scope it out and shit. But right now I feel like I’ve been scraped off the bottom of some hobo’s shoe, so let’s talk about it later.” Trevor grumbled.

 

“Fine, fine, just don’t go missing again until we talk.” Lester said, turning back to his game.

 

“Okie-dokie Lesty.” Trevor grumbled before continuing towards the stairs. He dragged himself up, slowly, and by the time he got to the top, he was ready to collapse and sleep for days.

 

He dragged himself into his room and sat down on his bare mattress, kicking off his boots. He opened the crumpled fast food bag and found a double cheeseburger and a large fries.

 

“Fatass.” He said affectionately, thinking of Michael as he unwrapped the burger with little patience. He hadn’t realized how ravenous he had really been until he smelled the meat and grease, and he devoured it like a starving dog.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Michael spent the rest of the afternoon alone, struggling to distract himself from the flurry of thoughts that haunted his mind.

 

He felt like if he knew Trevor, he could expect him to show up to his door late into the night, maybe with a bottle of whiskey in hand, trying to sweet talk him into doing any number of things.

 

Well, at this point Michael would never, ever admit it, but if Trevor showed up wanting, he could imagine giving it up without much of a fight... He was beginning to feel a subtle craving for the company of his wiry friend.

 

But this night, there came no Trevor. Instead, Michael fell asleep to a movie he struggled to focus on, trying not to wait up.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Michael woke up the next morning he got up to take a piss and found a trail of wet footprints leading from the bathroom to Trevor’s door.

 

Most of the time, Michael was thankful when Trevor chose to bathe, but Trevor must shake water off like a dog to make the mess he does in the bathroom.

 

He took his piss and once finished, followed the wet trail to Trevor’s room.

 

His knuckles rapped against the door before letting himself in, finding Trevor standing just inside. He looked as though he was already near the door, about to come out.

 

“Oh, hey Michael.” Trevor said with a smile and Michael couldn’t help but smile back.

 

It was refreshing to see Trevor visibly in a good mood for once. What he felt so good about, he didn't know.

 

“Hey Trevor, how are you feeling?”

 

“Great, Mikey, doin' just fantastic.” Trevor said, legitimate enthusiasm on his face.

 

“Oh, really?” Michael said, honestly not expecting that.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a strange pattern on Trevor's shirt. After a second or two of recollection he cringed, realizing that Trevor was wearing the shirt they had used as a cum rag just a few days ago...

 

A smirk appeared at the corners of Trevor's mouth, clearly amused by Michael’s disgust. He brought his arms up and pulled Michael into a firm hug around his neck.

 

“Thanks brother, for yesterday… I know I was probably being a bit of a dick.”

 

Michael cringed, letting Trevor hug him briefly before bringing a hand up to separate them.

 

“It was nothing, man, but ugh, god Trevor, did you really have to - … guh…”

 

“Whattaya mean?” Trevor asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I mean… ugh. Never-fucking-mind.” Michael said, shaking his head, “I-I just wanted to see if maybe we could go out and get some drinks tonight or somethin’?”

 

“Oh, well, fuck yeah! – Oh-‘cept I gotta meet up with my dealer later.” Trevor said off-handedly, “I can’t really blow him off.”

 

“Oh… so you’re gonna blow _me_ off so you can go get drugs, then?” Michael asked, sarcastically. “Okay, yeah, I gotcha.”

 

“Yeah Mikey, got my eye on some of the finest quality black tar heroin money can buy.”

 

“Fuck you, Trevor. Don’t even fuck around with me.”

 

“I’m just jokin’, alright? Calm yourself, fuck. I told you, I’m'a uppers kinda guy. Stop worrying your pretty little head about it.” He said, reaching up to rustle Michael’s hair.

 

Michael knocked his hand away before it even touched him. He scowled with annoyance.

 

“Well...”

 

“Welll?” Trevor prodded, the devilish look ever-present on his mug.

 

“You’d better not disappear again.”

 

“Aw don’t worry buddy, I’ll be back and I’ll even bring party favors.” Trevor said, fetching his flannel shirt to pull on over his black t-shirt.

 

Michael was disappointed by his response, but there was nothing he could do to stop Trevor, even if he really wanted to.

 

After that, Trevor took off without another word, and Michael caught himself moping.

 

The divide felt vast between them. His sadness only tapered off when he stepped out to go for a ride and found Trevor had taken his car. He cursed and stormed inside, furious now rather than sad. That was easier anyway.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Later that evening, Michael was sitting in the darkness of the living room, getting drunk alone again.

 

He was waiting... waiting _again_... Drinking and _waiting_ , smoldering and gritting his teeth.

 

After an hour or so, he heard keys in the front door. He perked up, realizing he hadn't come up with what he really wanted to say... Before he could think about it for much longer, he heard the front door open, and to his surprise, more than one voice. One was definitely Trevor’s, but there was another with him, a male voice he didn’t recognize. Michael tried to remain unnoticed, and when he heard his keys drop to the kitchen counter and footsteps climbing the stairs he was sure he hadn’t been seen. He quietly ascended the stairs behind them, bottle in hand, and listened closely to their exchange, trying to remain unnoticed.

 

Even though he was wearing a jacket, the man looked muscular. He was young, on the short side and had a charming smile that lit up whenever Trevor made a wisecrack. The guy had unruly dark brown hair and tattoos on his neck and hands.

 

“You have roommates?” The man said, his voice deep but warm.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Trevor replied, unlocking his bedroom door.

 

“I’ll try not to be too loud then.” The man purred, the lusty tone in his voice made the fine hairs on the back of Michael’s neck raise on end.

 

“Whatever you say buddy, but I think I'll have ya squealin' like a piggy in no time.” Trevor growled in reply.

 

Michael heard Trevor’s door unlock and the two disappeared inside as he came to the head of the staircase.

 

“We’ll see about that.” The man taunted, one last comment before the door shut and locked behind them.

 

Michael felt torn. He felt something that was excruciatingly close to jealousy...

 

 

Okay, fuck it, it **was** jealousy.

 

His teeth grit together again and he turned sharply towards his room, hand grasping the doorknob. He hesitated, staring at the blank wood door for a moment. He turned and glanced in the direction of Trevor’s room, thinking. He could imagine that guy and Trevor swapping spit, touching each other all over...

 

He started towards Trevor's door, and when he came up to it, pressed his ear against it to see what he could hear.

 

Inside he could hear muffled voices and a sultry laugh. He stood there snooping until he heard them go quiet, and before he really thought it through, he was knocking.

 

There was a brief pause.

 

“Fuck!-- **WHAT!?** ” Trevor’s voice broke the silence abruptly.

 

Michael knocked again in lieu of a reply. He heard shuffling behind the door and was relieved to hear someone coming closer. After a moment he heard the door unlock and Trevor stuck his head out.

 

“Oh… It's you.” Trevor said, eyebrows raising.

 

“Trevor, could I have a second?” Michael said urgently, making eye contact. Trevor’s pupils were as wide as the devil’s. He looked buzzed and jagged at the edges; eyes wild, hair a mess. His lips were rubbed pink at the corners.

 

“Fuck off Mikey, I have company.”

 

Michael’s eyebrows lowered and he gained a real serious look on his face.

 

“Oh, so not only do ya flake on me for drugs, but you flake on me for some cheap trick?” He said, mostly under his breath. There was a desperate tinge to his words, thanks to all the whiskey he drank to drown his sorrows.

 

Trevor shoved against Michael's chest, pushing him backwards a step into the hallway. He then ducked his head back into his bedroom.

 

“I'm sorry, Just one minute, sugar…” Trevor chimed before stepping fully into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

 

“He’s not a prostitute, Michael. He’s my dealer’s cousin.” He said, subconsciously squeezing himself through his jeans. “Don’t fuck this up for me just because you have repression issues.”

 

“Fuck you, Trevor. You took my car without asking me, you ditched me for drugs, and now you’re calling me _repressed_?” Michael shook his head, dismissing it all, “He needs to leave **now** , Trevor.”

 

Trevor scoffed.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, do I have shit in my ears? Are you tellin’ me to ask an easy lay to get packin’? Michael, _HE_ wants to suck me off. In fact, we were workin’ on that just a moment ago when we were so rudely interrupted.”

 

Michael stood there staring at Trevor. He should concede… At least, that was his first thought. Trevor was right, a demand like that was unreasonable…

 

“It’s not safe for you to bring guys back here, you know it.” Michael said desperately, attempting to come up with every excuse he could think of.

 

“Now that’s just blatant bias, Michael. We bring girls here alla the time. This conversation is fuckin' over, alright?”

 

Trevor shook his head, annoyed by the scorned look on Michael’s face. He turned to enter his room again and Michael grabbed him by his shirt, yanking him back.

 

"If you don't make him leave, I fuckin' will." Michael threatened, glaring straight into Trevor's eyes.

 

"What the fuck is up your ass today, Mikey?" Trevor squinted at him questioningly.

 

"You don't believe me?" Michael snapped challengingly, bringing a bulky arm up to shove Trevor aside.

 

Trevor resisted, shoving his shoulder between Michael and the door. There was a slight scuffle of limbs, but Trevor didn't budge. Michael was left with his fists balled in Trevor's shirt, pressing him up against the door. Trevor's hands took hold of Michael's forearms, holding him at bay.

 

"Fuck off, alright? Just go be spiteful and jealous and miserable in your room or somethin'."

 

Michael scowled, humiliated that Trevor had read him so easily. After a moment, Trevor turned to grab the doorknob.

 

“Wait Trevor…"  Michael stuttered out nervously, still holding him in place, "Don't... I can't stand watching you do this."

 

"So... what?" Trevor said. All of the on again-off again between them had become trite. It wasn't exciting, just emotionally exhausting and sexually frustrating.

 

"So I'll... I'll..." Michael said, fighting to hold back the desperation in his voice, "I'll... suck you off..."

 

Trevor blinked, catching the uncharacteristically sheepish look on Michael's face, unsure whether he should be skeptical or not.

 

“I dunno, Mikey…” He said cautiously.

 

Michael felt like he was bargaining for the rights to his soul, but he knew he was just being melodramatic.

 

He felt desperate, which was already horrible, but the thought of watching Trevor disappear into his room with that nameless stud seemed infinitely worse. He pressed Trevor up against the door and pushed a thigh between his legs to hold him squarely in place. He brought his face in close, only inches between them.

 

“I’ll… I’ll even fuck you, …” he said, his voice a pointed whisper, eyes trailing up and down Trevor's form nervously. He hoped that sweetened the deal enough to change Trevor's mind.

 

Trevor blinked at him, a bit surprised. After letting it sink in, a grin spread across is lips.

 

“Soo... I send him home…" He said, motioning with a thumb over his shoulder, "...you and me have some fun?”

 

“… yeah..” Michael agreed, uncertainty in his voice.

 

“One other thing ya gotta do for me though, Mikey.” Trevor said, leaning his hip against the door frame.

 

“You gotta quit this hot and cold shit, man. You give me the worst kinda blue balls when you play with me like that.”

 

“Or, the best kind?” Michael added, hoping to soften the unease he felt with a lame joke.

 

"Eh, yeah somethin' like that." Trevor said, an eyebrow raising as he turned to open his bedroom door.

 

“Uh, got some bad news, sweetheart... the girlfriend is sayin' no visitors…” Trevor said, shutting the door behind him. “Let me give you a ride home, huh?”

 

The man put up a bit of a protest, but after a few minutes they were dressed and heading back downstairs. The young man glared at Michael on the way out of the house and Michael felt a sickening sort of triumph.

 

Michael heard his car roll down the driveway and he returned to his room, thoughts of Trevor floating around his mind. He wondered what caused that bitter sting of jealousy... Most of the time he genuinely felt conflicted about the shenanigans he and T got into sometimes, but ever since the ante had been upped the umpteenth time, he felt like there was no place for interlopers in their dynamic.

 

When Trevor finally returned from the short trip, he raced inside and up the stairs two at a time. He struggled to calm his excitement but found it incredibly difficult.  He took a few deep breaths as he stepped up to Michael’s door, heart racing from the drugs he'd ingested earlier.

 

He turned the knob on the door and slinked into Michael’s room.

 

Michael sat on his bed, appearing deep in thought.  His eyes rolled up to catch Trevor’s as he entered.

 

“Well hello, _sailor_ …” Trevor purred, stepped toward Michael’s bed as he undid the first few buttons on his flannel shirt. “C’mere and gimmie some of that sugar…”

 

“Calm down, T, alright?”

 

“I thought you’d say that…” Trevor griped, “But you’re right, you’re right…” 

 

He toed off his boots and came to a sit beside Michael on the bed. After a moment he dug in his breast pocket and pulled out a small glass vial. He thumbed the cap open and looked at Michael as he brought it up to his own nose. He inhaled deep through his nostril and let it out through his mouth, trembling with elation.

 

“Here.” He said, “Take a sniff.”

 

“What is this, T?”

 

“ _Party favors_.” Trevor said with a sly smirk, “Just sniff it.”

 

Trevor brought it to Michael’s nose, and he hesitated for a brief moment, but eventually gave in.

 

Michael sat back against the headboard for a moment, waiting for it to kick in, whatever the fuck it was.

 

Soon he got a jittery, energetic sort of feeling.  The anxiety gnawing at him began to wane and he relaxed a bit against his pillows.

 

Trevor dropped a hand on Michael’s thigh and gave it a firm squeeze.

 

Michael looked Trevor over as he sat beside him, his green eyes meeting Trevor's hazel ones, and Trevor's mouth split into an eager smile.

 

Trevor had never once been shy with his advances, which was part of the reason Michael found them challenging to turn down. By now he pretty much expected it, and at that thought Trevor's hand began groping along his thigh unceremoniously, its intentions clear.

 

Michael felt himself thickening from the touching, arousal building quicker than usual. Trevor soon found the emboldened shape in his jeans and began groping and stroking it, teasing it to firmness.

 

“Want me to start us off?” Trevor offered, laying his temple against Michael’s shoulder as his palm squeezed the ever-hardening length in Michael’s slacks.

 

“Yeah... Suck me off, T…” Michael breathed, “I can’t get it outta my mind…”

 

Trevor began undoing Michael’s pants without a moment of hesitation. He wanted to gloat at the compliment, but was too distracted by his assigned duty to bother. Instead, in contemplative silence he dragged Michael’s jeans down and off with Michael's help, taking his socks with them.

 

After tossing them to the floor, he returned to his previous position and ran his rough hand up Michael’s thigh again, enjoying the abrasiveness of his leg hair against his fingertips.

 

His fingers slipped up the thigh of M’s boxers, taking hold of the warm length he found there.

 

He looked up at Michael again, watching those eyes watching him.

 

“You like it when I suck you off, huh?” Trevor said as his fingers encircled Michael’s length, squeezing tenderly.

 

Michael didn’t speak for a moment, though his lips parted slightly.

 

“…Y-yeah…” he said, his voice as small as he could manage.

 

“Yeah, I thought so.” Trevor mused. His hand slid out of the leg and his fingers moved up to snag in the elastic waistband of Michael’s boxers. He dragged them down too and discarded them without a second thought, his eyes locked on the semi lying against Michael’s belly.

 

Trevor leaned down, bracing one hand against Michael‘s thigh so the other could take his length and stroke it steadily. He pressed his face into it, unable to keep himself from breathing in Michael’s musky scent. A tremble ran through him, hard enough for Michael to feel, and despite the slight uneasy feeling it gave him, his cock didn’t mind and twitched lazily against Trevor’s face.

 

Trevor craned his neck slightly and ran the tip of his tongue across the head of Michael’s cock, tracing the slit. His lips followed soon after and he sucked the first few inches slowly, his soft lips massaging the delicate contours of the crown.

 

The hot pulse of Trevor’s sucking made Michael squirm and breathe out pleasured sounds which only encouraged Trevor to work harder and faster.

 

Michael forced his eyes open. Normally, he tried to avoid looking at Trevor while he did such things, fearing the resulting feelings, but he was determined to watch this time. He looked down at Trevor, who was quite distracted with his task, his own eyes shut, his mouth warped around the girth of Michael's cock.

 

Michael’s hand came up to stroke the hair at the back of the Trevor's neck.

 

Trevor’s eyes opened and he glanced up curiously, tongue playing along the underside of his cock.

 

It felt a bit wrong to Michael, to be enjoying watching his friend suck and lick him, but in some mesmerizing way their raw lust felt insanely good.

 

Trevor kept eye contact as he took Michael in his mouth once more and sucked Michael in deep, the head of his cock pressing suddenly into his throat, thick lips dragging in a steady but slow rhythm.

 

“Fuck…” Michael breathed, getting flushed. It felt so god damned good to be engulfed in Trevor's mouth.

 

Trevor’s hands slid along his thighs to his stomach, pushing Michael’s shirt up slightly. His fingertips sunk into the slight layer of adipose over the muscle of Michael’s stomach.

 

Michael tolerated it at first, but when Trevor began to play with it and squeeze it, Michael grabbed his wrist.

 

“Cut it out.” He snapped, and Trevor let out a small snort through his nose, his mouth still full.

 

Trevor pulled back suddenly, to Michael’s dismay, leaving him slick and wanting. He wiped his mouth with his thumb and gazed down at Michael’s cock, which was reddened and glistening and standing at attention all on its own.

 

Trevor’s hand wrapped around the base of it, giving it a few languid strokes.

 

“I didn’t say stop _that_ …” Michael said.

  
“No, no, no… I know you all too well, Mikey boy.” Trevor said, toying with Michael’s cock, knocking it back and forth, making it twitch defenselessly.

 

“You ain’t gonna come down my throat and say, Ohhh now I’m too tired.” He mocked in a girly tone, but then his voice barked back to normal,  “You owe me, Michael. This time, you owe _me_.”

 

Michael accepted this as fact, a man of his word (… at least most of the time), but his gaze remained defiant in spite of this.

 

Trevor got to his feet beside the bed. He finished undoing the buttons on his flannel shirt and shrugged it to the floor. He then began unbuckling his belt in a smooth motion, letting his pants drop down his thighs.

 

Michael sat up, gazing at Trevor’s masculine, lanky form. He watched Trevor’s hand push into his briefs to pull his cock out, but the other stood there a moment, giving himself a few tugs. He wasn’t quite hard yet…

 

Michael tried to imagine what it would be like to put that thing in his mouth… It wasn't the first time he'd thought about it, but now it seemed a daunting task.

 

Trevor looked up at Michael, stroking himself with a serious sort of look on his face.

 

Michael imagined it penetrating his parted lips, Trevor grabbing him and fucking his mouth with wild abandon.

 

Michael got to his feet suddenly, to Trevor’s surprise. He grabbed Trevor by one arm and flung him suddenly and violently to the bed.

 

“If this is happening, it’s on my terms.” Michael said, unbuttoning his shirt.

 

Trevor lay in Michael’s place, stroking himself as he envisioned Michael sucking him, as he often did on lonely, drunken nights. This almost seemed too good to be true, and part of him was primed for disappointment.

 

Michael shrugged off his shirt and gazed down at Trevor on his back, his hand tucked in his red briefs.

 

Trevor slipped his hard on out of the leg hole of his underwear with a flick of his tongue and a sly wink.

 

Michael reached up impatiently and dragged Trevor’s briefs and his trousers the rest of the way down. He gazed up to that disgusting, black, cumstained t-shirt and scowled with annoyance.

 

He began pulling that off too and Trevor complied, eyes watching every move Michael made.

 

That left them both bare, and Michael climbed atop of Trevor, face to face, staring down at him with an intense and dominating gaze. Trevor reached a hand up to touch Michael’s shoulder and Michael grabbed Trevor’s wrist, pinning it above his head.

 

“You will never tell anyone.” Michael stated, staring directly into Trevor’s eyes.

 

“Who the fuck would I tell?” Trevor growled, eyebrows lowering.

 

“No one. You will tell _**no one**_.”

 

Trevor scowled slightly. He never liked being told what he could or could not do. … But on the other hand, he did like juicy secrets.

 

“Okay-okay Michael, if it means that much to you.” He said as genuinely as he could. He stared up at Michael’s expression and saw a bit of relief there. That was good enough for him.

 

“Now get suckin’, Mikey boy.” He added with a grin.

 

“Shut the fuck up.” Michael barked, as though he had been interrupted. He grabbed Trevor's throat with his free hand and held him in place.

 

He leaned in close, pushing his tightly pressed lips against Trevor’s parted ones, a hesitant kiss of sorts.

 

Trevor was taken by surprise, to his delight. His hand snaked free from Michael’s grasp and he wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck, pulling him deeper into their uncoordinated kiss.

 

Michael winced; Trevor’s lips were soft… almost too soft, and a bit wet. His affectionate gesture was turning into a sloppy, tongue-y open mouthed kiss.

 

Michael turned his head to break it and Trevor laughed, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Michael couldn’t help himself, a bemused smirk appeared on his lips too.

 

“Sorry…” Trevor snickered.

 

“You fuck.” Michael seethed before he descended. He laid himself down across his bed, propping himself on an elbow beside Trevor’s hip, his hand ghosting up his side.

 

“Oh baby…” Trevor said under his breath, excited to see Michael and his dick so fucking achingly close up.

 

Michael took Trevor's cock in hand, fingers grabbing tightly as he began stroking Trevor off with his own foreskin, drawing heated breaths from deep within him.

 

Michael watched Trevor’s reaction, he got a kick out of seeing him so riled up over something as simple as an old fashioned.

 

But it wasn’t simple, was it? Trevor was watching him with an elated look.

 

He leaned down, staring at Trevor’s cock, trying not to think too hard about what he was about to do.

 

He leaned his face in and ran his tongue along the underside of Trevor’s length, rolling his eyes up to glance at the other, catching a rare glint in Trevor's eye, a look he only ever saw when they were doing something dangerous or seriously wrong.

 

Michael was surprised by how smooth the flesh was and was relieved to find that it didn’t taste disgusting. The scent however was pungent and masculine, yet familiar.

 

He pulled the foreskin back to expose the reddened tip of Trevor's length and held him firmly near the base so he could run his tongue over the head.

 

“Ohhh…” Trevor sighed, truly at awe.

 

Michael slipped Trevor’s cock between his lips awkwardly, trying to figure out how to fit the awkward shape into his mouth. He stared up at Trevor and sucked in a short, steady rhythm, finding it easier than he had imagined it being.

 

Trevor let out a pleasured growl, raising his hand to run through Michael’s dense hair. Michael began to concentrate, closing his eyes so he could focus on the unfamiliar task.

 

“Mmmh, looks like we found a practical use for that big mouth of yours.” Trevor drawled with a sneer. Michael’s eyes rolled up, eyebrows pinched. He stopped guarding his teeth, letting them drag mercilessly against tender flesh.

 

“Fuck! –aah!” Trevor hissed through his teeth and moaned softly, a mix of pain and pleasure.

 

The sound was arousing in a primal sort of way and Michael felt his face flush red. His head had begun to rock in a slow rhythm, and he began to take in more and more with each down note, testing the use of his tongue along the underside of Trevor's length.

 

Trevor was transfixed, watching Michael teach himself to suck dick. He was getting a decent rhythm going and seemed to be encouraged by the soft exhales coming from Trevor’s parted lips.

 

Trevor’s hand rose to Michael’s cheek, the pad of his thumb following his cheekbone and trailing down, stroking the point where the two met.

 

Michael watched Trevor’s reaction as he tested his limit for how much he could take. The tip pressed at the back of his throat, causing him to gag and withdraw a bit.

 

Trevor snickered, though he was rather aroused by Michael’s work. His hand moved up to grab the back of Michael’s head, thrusting upwards into his mouth in tandem, exceeding Michael’s limit in one thrust, making him gag violently again. Teeth marred flesh and Trevor let out an animalistic grunt.

 

Michael bristled, pulling away to his feet in a matter of seconds, a string of drool running down his lip. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, eyes glaring.

 

“You wanna play rough, huh?” Spat Michael as he climbed forward. A hand grabbed Trevor’s neck firmly, pinning him into the pillows. “Y’wanna play fuckin’ rough?”

 

Trevor stared up into Michael’s eyes, a dazed and excited look on his face. His dick spasmed against his stomach.

  
“Yeah… _oh yeah_!” Trevor rasped past Michael's choke hold.

 

Michael glanced down at Trevor’s sprawled form. He began to breathe laboredly with Michael’s hand around his throat, but he gazed up at Michael with admiration, a look Michael had thought impossible of Trevor.

 

His hand released Trevor’s throat and he grabbed his thighs, pushing them up and spreading his legs apart. Michael's gaze dropped and he stared down at the curve of Trevor’s ass. He moved forward, placing his weight on both hands between Trevor's arms. Their cocks brushed together and Trevor ground up against him, their movements synching up by chance, stimulating them both.

 

“Mikey, I have a rubber in my jeans.” Trevor purred, waving a hand toward his jeans as best he could. “I don’t even know what kinda floozies you've been bangin’, knowin’ your taste in hookers.”

 

“No.” Michael said, staring down into Trevor’s eyes intently. “You belong to me, Trevor. We’re in this together. If I’m gonna fuck you, I’m gonna fuck you _raw_.”

 

Trevor quivered just slightly, arousal overcoming him along with a flurry of mixed emotions. His hands came up to Michael’s shoulders and Michael couldn’t tell if the look Trevor was giving was accepting or pleading.

 

Michael pulled away, sitting back on his haunches, reaching toward his bedside table. Trevor’s hand slid between them, bringing their lengths together in his grasp.

 

Michael turned back, a bottle of lubricant in hand.

 

Trevor shuttered again, his dick twitching against Michael’s as he spread lubricant across his hand.

 

Michael moved himself so that he was better aligned. Trevor wiggled closer to the middle of the bed.

 

Michael pulled up close, letting his cock lay against Trevor's hip as his thumb teased the tight, hesitant slit of Trevor’s ass.

 

The tip of Michael’s thumb began to breach the tight knot, spreading the greasy lubricant as far as he could. He pulled his thumb away, giving his cock a stroke and a squeeze, spreading the lube there too.

 

He bumped the tip of his dick against Trevor’s ass, prodding carelessly for a moment. His hands took Trevor’s hips and his cock pressed up urgently against Trevor’s greased ass.

 

Trevor let out a bit of a held breath, knowing the terms of his sentence. He watched Michael, enjoying the concentration written on his face.

 

He pressed harder, rocking his hips just slightly to ease Trevor’s tight hole open around him.

 

Trevor felt a bit of violation, the feeling alien. Having spent years upon years in boy's schools, correctional facilities, and prison, his first instinct was to fight back, and his hands moved on their own, pressing against Michael’s chest and shoulder.

 

Michael’s muscles tensed in response, and his powerful hands forced Trevor right back, cock pressing insistently against Trevor’s entrance.

 

“Don’t fight it.” Michael commanded, holding Trevor in place, teeth bared, “You wanted it, and you’re _gonna get it_.”

 

Trevor let out a groan, feeling Michael’s cock press deeper.

 

He let out a grunt, the feeling of violation intensifying as he was spread apart. Michael was right… he did want this… so very fucking much.

 

He sucked in a breath and felt his ass yield just a bit for it. Michael sunk in further taking every inch he was given, and finally he felt Trevor twitch around him, squeezing him from inside.

 

He let out a breath and began to rock to and fro, spreading the lube further with each thrust, going a bit deeper each time, losing patience with each aching thrust.

 

Trevor let out a series of grunts and groans, the discomfort nearly overpowering, but his lust was all encompassing.

 

“So fucking tight…” Michael breathed, his head rolling forward, eyes pinched shut. He began rocking harder and Trevor, despite his attempts to bite off the urgent, pained noises, let out a sharp grunt, his body twitching violently, fingers digging into Michael’s flesh where they clung to his shoulders.

 

“Ahhh fuck…” Trevor hissed between his teeth.

 

“Are you okay…?” Michael breathed, just to make sure.

 

“Yeah-yeah-ohh yeah, _don’t stop_.”

 

Michael’s fingers got a better grip on Trevor’s hips and he thrust in hard suddenly, punishing Trevor for his enthusiasm. Trevor's head cocked back and he let out a stifled cry of pain, writhing slightly.

 

Michael was about three or four inches in, pumping slowly, feeling the lube wear thin.

 

Michael sunk in deep, striking a chord deep within Trevor that dragged a pleasured sound from him.  
 Despite this, Michael pulled out rather suddenly.

 

Trevor’s eyes widened, meeting Michael’s, a puzzled look appearing on his face.

 

“Needs more…” Michael said, grabbing the jar of lube.

 

Trevor gave himself a slow stroke in lament... Trevor hadn't imagined that anal sex could ever actually feel pleasurable, but feeling Michael's thick cock push so deep felt unnervingly good... Now it was about to start all over...

 

“Fuuuckkkk…” Trevor groaned through clenched teeth as Michael’s freshly slickened cock pressed firmly against Trevor's sore asshole. It hurt more this time, but was a little easier to get inside. Trevor had to bite down on his tongue to keep from making embarrassing sounds.

 

“How’s it feel to be the bitch, huh?” Michael panted as he began to pound his cock into Trevor's ass. Trevor snarled and punched him as hard as he could in the shoulder.

 

Michael bucked in suddenly, the pain of that sock to his arm took a moment to sink in and when it did it hurt like hell.

 

“Unghh fuck you!” Michael growled, ramming himself in hard, fingers digging into the bone of Trevor's hips for purchase.

 

“Oh god, Mikey!” Trevor groaned out, probably too loud. Michael clamped a hand over his mouth.

 

“Shut the fuck up.” Michael seethed. His eyes glaring down into Trevor’s as he began to rut against him hard, pushing the whole of his length up inside, long and thorough.

 

Trevor shuttered, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

 

It felt great to be so deep, and Michael let out a pleasured sigh.

 

Trevor let out a deep but muffled moan beneath Michael’s fingers.

 

“Shhh….” Michael warned before releasing his mouth. He leaned forward, taking Trevor’s thighs to push them upward again.

 

“Mikey, you’re so big…” Trevor groaned through his teeth; he couldn’t help himself. He was spasming around Michael’s shaft, rocking his hips helplessly.

 

“I said, _shut the **fuck** up_.” Michael grunted, forcing Trevor’s knees to his chest for a better angle.

 

Michael began thrusting impatiently, his eyes shutting as he plowed into Trevor’s yielding ass.

 

Trevor grunted, his position keeping him from taking deep breaths. Michael’s reckless thrusts struck that delicious spot deep inside repeatedly, making Trevor writhe and groan in delight.

 

Michael opened his eyes, breaths pounding out of him with each thrust. He caught a look of elation on Trevor’s face and a sickly arousal filled him to the brim.

 

Trevor looked hot… and that worried him greatly, but it didn’t discourage him. Rather, it sat impatiently at the back of his mind, reminding him of its presence like a cat begging to be let inside.

 

Trevor’s hands groped desperately at Michael’s sides, at least, what he could reach.

 

Michael thrusted with wild abandon and Trevor let out a desperate sound.

 

“Right there –ahhh yeah, _right there_.” He groaned, attempting to guide Michael’s thrusts with his hands.

 

Trevor could feel Michael’s balls slapping against his tail bone, but it was nothing compared to the intense bloom of pleasure that flowed through him whenever Michael struck him just the right way.

 

Trevor could feel himself nearing his peak and a feeling of woe filled his heart. It was almost over already, but it had just started to get really good...

 

Michael stared down intently, watching Trevor shake with pleasure. It seemed when he hit him just right, it made Trevor buck up in response, and inexplicably he could feel that intense bloom of pleasure himself. He didn’t know what caused it, but he had never felt such a thing in all his years. Before he realized it, his orgasm was creeping up on him.

 

“Ah, T…” He grunted, and Trevor wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck in one smooth motion, dragging him into a hug. Michael’s response was to thrust harder, pounding long and deep, plowing Trevor into the headboard repeatedly, shaking the whole of the bed.

 

The discomfort of begin fucked violently into the bed didn’t phase Trevor. In fact, it encouraged him and aroused him to no end. He loved being totally dominated by Michael. It made him so god damn hot.

 

“Fff-fuck Michael, _oh fuck_!” He stuttered into Michael’s ear, feeling his orgasm spiral through him, causing his hips to buck up sharply. The feeling made Michael thrust in hard with everything he had, rocking the bed into the wall for the last few thrusts.

 

Michael moved frantically, face pushed into Trevor’s shoulder. He suddenly placed a hand on Trevor’s stomach to give him leverage to drag them apart with a wet, ‘snick’.

 

Trevor shot his load onto his stomach at the feeling, letting out a wavering cry as he felt it rush through every inch of him; it felt unusual to come without a helping hand.

 

Michael stroked himself fast, letting out a harsh gasp as he came all over Trevor’s stomach too.

 

Michael let out a breath, shaking from the sheer amount of energy he had just expelled.

 

Trevor released his hold on Michael’s head and lay spent and satisfied beneath him. He ran his hand up his belly lazily, smearing their mess up his chest.

 

Michael watched, a bit of disgust tinging his expression.

 

The cat was unignorable now…

 

_You fucked him. You actually fucked him._

 

Trevor sucked on his first and middle fingers, reveling in the afterglow of what they had just done.

 

Michael moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He wiped his brow, the scent of their sex hung in the room, raw and masculine.

 

“That was fucking hot.” Trevor grumbled, a sultry tone to his voice.

 

Michael got to his feet and found his boxers on the floor. He dragged them on, stepping toward the door.

 

“I gotta take a piss.” He said, turning to look at Trevor on the bed who appeared to be in a daze.

 

Michael unlocked the door and crossed the hallway to the bathroom.

 

He stood over the toilet, waiting for his cock to soften enough to piss.

 

Fuck… that _was_ hot…

 

He felt a sinking feeling, his ego berating him for his actions.

 

He’d expected to feel an immense amount of guilt and anxiety, but really he felt... nothing.

 

He’d had a fuck with his friend.

 

_...So what?_

 

_So fuckin’ what?_

 

The bathroom door opened behind him suddenly and in slinked Trevor looking disheveled and hastily dressed; the black t-shirt was even more disgusting now than it was before.

 

“What are you doing? “ Michael said, looking at him through the mirror over the sink. He finally felt like he could piss, but now he was holding it back as Trevor undressed clumsily behind him and climbed into the shower stall.

 

“Just washing your unborn children off of my chest, that’s all.” He said, cranking on the water.

 

“Can’t you wait?”

 

“Fuck you, next time I’ll come on yer back while yer sleepin’ so you can know what it feels like when it dries.”

 

Michael sighed, but was finally able to start pissing. He found it burned a bit and he wasn’t sure if it was just from coming so hard or if it was some sort of horrible, quick spreading STD. But he had just hoped to god he hadn’t made the wrong decision… Fuck...

 

He glanced up and caught Trevor staring at his dick. He shoved Trevor in the shoulder, and he laughed and turned away to continue his bathing.

 

When Michael finished, he moved to the sink to wash his hands. He returned to his room soon after, sleep clouding his mind. He rubbed his face with one hand and turned on the television, looking for a distraction from his over-hyped train of thought.

 

His mind recalled glimpses of Trevor beneath him, groaning his name, and he tried desperately to find anything on television to distract himself.

 

Trevor'd liked it… of course he'd liked it… He had only been pushing for this for months and months and months.

 

He heard his door open and in stalked Trevor. He shut the door behind himself and flopped sidelong on the bed, grinning.

 

“Soooo, Mikey.” Trevor purred, “Whatcha thinkin’?”

 

“Thinkin' I might catch some sleep.” He knew what Trevor meant, but he didn’t even know what to think…

 

“Oh… Well, wanna watch a movie then?”

 

“Yeah, after all, my favorite classic films are your ultimate sleep aid, huh?”

 

“No, well I mean…”

 

“You mean you want an excuse to stay and fall asleep in my bed.”

 

There came a pause. Trevor looked away.

 

“… Yeah…”

 

“Well.” Michael said, leaning over to grab a stack of VHS tapes. “Name your poison .”

 

Trevor took them in hand and looked them over for once.

 

Most of them were old gumshoe detective movies, or film Noire, or classic drama, but one of them was an old monster movie. " _SUPERMEGA KAIJU"_ the cover boasted. He waved it in Michael’s face.

 

Michael scoffed and took it from Trevor's grasp to put it on.

 

“Ahh, yeah this one. This was my favorite movie when I was a kid. It was the first movie my dad took me to.” Michael said as the intro began to play.

 

The main theme clattered onto the television screen along with a massive label written in Kanji. The harmonic clash of an orchestra played dramatic, militant music. It was grainy and old, but it commanded attention.

 

Trevor appeared transfixed by the strange music and foreign lettering. For once he might actually pay attention to one of Michael’s movies.

 

Trevor laid back, relaxing shoulder to shoulder with Michael. Michael pulled away, and Trevor looked, expecting him to be backing away, but instead Michael was getting up to his feet to lock his door. He returned and pulled up the blankets.

 

Trevor’s eyes were fixed on the TV again, watching the strange movie.

 

Michael glanced at Trevor, his dear friend. The closest friend he’d ever had, really. The only person he’d met so far in life who was worth spending every day with.

 

Well…

 

There were complications for sure, but Trevor could be trusted.

 

Trevor could be relied upon.

 

Maybe… Trevor was right. Maybe it was okay.

 

Maybe it would cause no harm to have some fun from time to time… for now…

 

Michael shifted to his side and moved his arm over Trevor’s stomach.

 

Trevor looked at him curiously. He rolled onto his side in the same direction.

 

Michael pressed his chest into Trevor’s back and pulled him into a hug.

 

Trevor shut his eyes, enjoying the warmth of another body pressed against him.

 

He felt an intense emotion overcome him, a potent mix of sadness and joy.  Tears prickled at his eyelids, the seemingly infinite chasm in his heart feeling full for once. He fought back tears, savoring the fleeting moment, lying here in Michael’s arms.

 

On screen, the film opened on a jet fighter flying across the sky and Trevor was instantly enthralled.

 

Michael knew that the fallout of this would likely be catastrophic, like the smoldering and ruined wake of a gigantic monster stomping through a major city, their friendship could never be the same. But at very least it was warm here... at least they had each other, at least... for a little while.

 

Really, when Michael thought about it, it _was_ better than before.

 

 

 

] For now [ 


End file.
